Shards of Glass
by Nightmares Are Dreams Too
Summary: All that she could recall were all of those eyes, directed on only her. Each orb was filled with a different emotion, but from what she could see, no one was going to hug her and tell her that she would be okay. No one was going to tell her that it was okay to make a mistake, that everyone made mistakes. Hermione wasn't everyone! She did not make mistakes...
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Hello, my lovelies. This is my first Harry Potter story, published on this website. The updates may be infrequent and slow, due to schoolwork, but I will make sure to work on this. I do hope that you enjoy it. Thank you for reading, my loves!  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own the characters in this story.<p>

_"__Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"_

__

_Thought that I was strong_

_I know the words I need to say_

_Frozen in my place_

_I let the moment slip away_

Hermione Granger was absolutely and undeniably fed up. Her frizzy, brunette, curls fell around her face, dark rings framing her eyes due to her lack of sleep. She had spent hours on end studying for her exams and finishing her homework, her only reward a mocking comment made by Ronald Weasley. Though she knew that she couldn't really expect more out of the red headed boy, it did get on her nerves.

By now, the muggleborn witch had become rather adept at hiding her emotions. She did it on a rather daily basis, both with her friends, and her enemies. Each racial slur broke her broken heart a little bit more, each snarky comment made her walls crumble, and each teasing joke from the people who cared about her stung like a wasps sting. Sure, she knew that it was all in good fun, but she could not help but be offended. Since when was being smart a bad thing? Why couldn't Harry or Ron spend just one night studying, or doing homework, on their own, instead of relying on her to get it done for them?

It sometimes seemed like the only reason that she had been let into the Golden Trio, the only reason that Harry and Ron wanted her to be around them, was for her brains. That was the only reason that anyone wanted to be her friend, really. That, and the fact that she was close to the Boy-Who-Lived himself.

For once, she wanted to be seen as someone other than the smartest witch of her age, or Harry Potter's friend. Hermione wanted to build her own path, to create her own destiny and to make her own mark on the wizarding world.

She knew that she wasn't beautiful, like Astoria Greengrass or Cho Chang.

She knew that she wasn't the most desired girl at school.

She wasn't popular, like Pansy Parkinson or Ginny Weasley.  
>She wasn't talented, like Penelope Clearwater.<p>

All she was, really, was Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's friend.

_I've been screaming on the inside_

_And I know you feel the pain_

_Can you hear me?_

_Can you hear me?_

Hermione knew that she could not stop smiling, not at this point. She could not let her facade break, and she could not remove the mask that she had hidden behind for so many years now. If she let her guard down now, if she let the people who she cared so deeply about see how she truly felt, they would leave her. And she would have no one.

Already, she could feel that Ron was drifting slowly away from her. The first time that he had noticed her in a positive way, was when she had put on a dress and made herself look like a princess for a day. That had been days before. Now, the fourteen year old girl was trying to clear her clouded mind.

Hermione was never, ever, as distracted as she was. She could barely keep her mind on the lesson that was being taught, in fact, she did not even care. She could hear the faint scratching of quills on parchment, the droning, monotonous voice of the male professor, and occasional coughs. To Hermione, it was simply the music of a classroom. It was almost relaxing, in a way, the familiar sounds lulling her farther into her daze. That was, until a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Ms. Granger!" Drawled Severus Snape, the potions master. Snapped out of her daydream, the brunette hummed softly in response, her eyes clearing slightly.

"Do you find that the wall is more interesting than the lesson?" Questioned the professor, making a nervous flush burn on the female girls cheeks.

"Oh, no, Sir. I am sorry, I was up late studying last night for a Transfiguration exam." Hermione stammered out, her hair falling over her startled eyes. Never before had a professor called her out for not paying attention in class. She could practically feel the sneer on Malfoy's face, his silver eyes boring into the back of her head.

It was such a dismay to Hermione to have to sit so near to Draco during class. Already, she could hear the harsh insults that he was sure to fling at her after class.

"That does not dismiss the fact that you were not paying attention, Ms. Granger. I must say, I did not expect this sort of behaviour from you. I am extremely disappointed. Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape's nasal voice sounded far too happy at the fact that he was taking points away from the Gryffindor sweetheart. The embarrassed blush on her cheeks grew darker as she heard the mixture of groans and snickers around her, and she felt as though she had been slapped when Ronald sent her a look that contained more annoyance than worry, unlike Harry, who had genuine concern in his emerald green eyes.

"Yes, sir." Her meek voice was barely loud enough to hear, but through her protective veil of hair, she could see that the professor had nodded and returned to the lesson.

_Say it's over,_

_Yes it's over_

_But I need you anyway_

_Say you love me but it's not enough_

Now, Hermione was sure to pay attention, though she already knew most of the facts already. That day, the class would not be making a potion. They were simply learning about the effects and strengths of potions, depending on the ingredients, cauldron, and other easily misdone instructions. Taking careful notes, Hermione kept her eyes on her paper, making sure that she did not get into trouble once again. Knowing that she had gotten caught doing something that she was not supposed to be doing made her feel as though her stomach had dropped, almost like she was falling. Tears stung at her eyes, though she hastily blinked them away. This was just wonderful, just perfect. Now, she wasn't even perfect to all of the teachers, the only people who seemed to admire her for how smart that she was, not ridicule her for them. Though Snape had never been particularly fond of her, she still had been a bright student in his eyes, as far as she had known.

Realization hit her as she looked up from her paper for a moment, noticing eyes on her. Now, people noticed. Students, Slytherins and Gryffindors, who were in the dungeons, knew that she was not being herself right now. They knew that Hermione Granger was not the same person that she was in First Year. Yes, that had been the first time she had broken down, inside of the bathroom. When Harry and Ron had found her in that bathroom, she had decided that would be the last time that she would let anyone see her cry. She would guard her eyes with a shield of tinted glass, so that the people who truly cared could see through.

_Never meant to lie_

_But I'm not the girl you think you know_

_The more that I am with you_

_The more that I am all alone_

So far, that plan had worked. But no one had seen through the glass.

When the class was finally dismissed, sporting a thirteen inch essay, the brunette female practically ran out of the classroom, determined to get to the common room before anyone could catch her. Right now, she was not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, especially if they were concerned remarks. And most of all, she did not want to speak to Ron. The boy who she had fallen in love with was gone. He was a whole new person, focused only on impressing others.

He was cruel to Hermione, as though he thought that he was just like a thought that she had known Ronald Weasley. Hermione had never been wrong before; she almost always knew what was going on. She was supposed to be smart. She was supposed to be bright. She was supposed to know the correct answer, to see what was false and to fix it.

She couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to tell that he had been lying to her for all of this time. All of those glances that she thought were loving were filled with hidden jealousy and despise.

Ron wanted to be Harry's best and only friend.

All the so called 'playful teasing' was intentionally cruel. He had fully intended for his words to hurt her, and hurt they did. They cut into her like broken shards of glass.

Ron had never cared for her. All that he wanted was attention, fame, popularity.

That popularity came in the form of Harry James Potter. And if Harry wanted Hermione as a friend, Ron would have to deal with her. He bullied her when the infamous child hero was not around.

She had loved Ron once...

He had betrayed her.

Yet, Hermione kept up the act. She pretended that she did not know how Ron truly felt about her. She made sure that he did not see the pain in her eyes, nor how her heart was slowly breaking, shattering like glass. Ron had nearly helped her fix herself. She had needed a friend.  
>Now what did she have?<p>

All that Hermione wanted to do was collapse in her bed and let her emotions lose. She wanted to feel the salty tears running down her cheeks, leaving trails down her gentle skin. She wanted to let a scream tear at her throat until she could no longer make a sound. She wanted to curl into a ball and sob until she had passed out, just like so many nights before.  
>Most of all, she wanted to be alone, so that no one could see that behind her heavily guarded eyes, she was as fragile as glass.<p>

She would have succeeded in her mission of solitude, too, if she hadn't ran directly into a firm chest and tumbled to the floor, her books and papers flying out of her arms and landing all around her. A small exhale of air escaped her before she could stop it, her body hitting the floor in an undignified heap.

Shattered glass littered the ground before her. A frown tugging at the corners of her lips, Hermione reached out to touch the broken shards, wanting to know where they came from, when she saw that a small jar of ink had broken, the thin black liquid spread out across the ground, staining Hermione's robes. A groan escaped her lips as she slowly sat up, rubbing her aching hip, which she had hit when she fell. Hearing an amused, and sickeningly familiar, chortal, she groaned once again, resisting the urge to bang her head against the ground.

"Oh, look who it is. The filthy little mudblood."

_Not that I'm so different_

_Not that I don't see_

_The dying light of what we used to be_

_But how could I forgive you?_

_Just change!_

_And I'm a liar by your side_

_I'm about to lose my mind_

_'Cause I've been screaming on the inside_

_And I know you feel the pain_

_Can you hear me?_

_Can you hear me?_

_You've been dreaming_

_If you're thinking_

_That I still belong to you_

_And I've been dying,_

_'Cause I'm lying to myself!_

© Shards of Glass


	2. Chapter One

"_My father did say this; it's been fifty years since the chamber has been opened. He wouldn't tell me who opened it, only that they were expelled. The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a mudblood died. So it's only a matter of time before one of them is killed this time. As for me, I hope it's Granger."_

Hermione didn't have to look up to know that a certain blonde Slytherin was smirking at her. Of course it was him who she had to bump into and make a fool out of herself in front of. Picking herself up in the most graceful way that she could, the brunette Gryffindor shot Malfoy a glare.

"Oh, look who it is. The blonde little ferret!" She responded, her tone sarcastic and cold. She could hear the said Slytherin snort behind her, and she could practically feel him rolling his eyes.

Pulling her wand out of her bag, she attempted to ignore the male as she used magic to pick up all of her books, as well as fixing the shattered glass. It wasn't difficult to recreate the vial, as well as refill it with the ink. She let a half smile twist her lips up as she easily cleaned up the mess. It was so much easier to do things when you had magic, in Hermione's opinion.

"Really, Granger? I'd expect a better insult from you. I have to say, you've disappointed me." His nonchalant, drawling, voice immediately made her smile drop once more. As she straightened from her somewhat bent over position by the floor, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you rather have me hex you? Because, trust me, it would be my pleasure." Sugary venom dripped from her voice, normally warm brown eyes cold. Placing her books in her bag, almost as though she did not care what Malfoy had to say, she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

The laugh that escaped Draco's lips was anything but humorous. No, it lacked amusement or any sort of joy. Instead, it was harsh, almost like shattering glass hitting the floor.

"I doubt that you could hurt me. You're nothing than a useless Mudb-" He didn't get to finish his sentence. Hermione already had her wand pointed at his throat, getting a strange sense of deja vu. Ah, how she longed to punch him and see him run away again.

Coward.

"Say that one more time. I dare you." Surprise glittered in Draco's eyes, different than his usual arrogance. The voice that left the Gryffindor's throat did not resemble her usual, sure-of-herself voice.

"Say it!" This was more of a feral growl, the growl of someone who needed to prove themselves. She sounded like somebody who needed to defend themselves from a predator, a superior. That was exactly what Hermione needed. She wanted to feel like she could take care of herself, that Draco Malfoy knew that she was not intimidated by him. That, however, was a lie. As much as the Granger hated to admit it, the Slytherin did intimidate her. Confusion flashed across her face as she noticed Malfoy's expression.

A smirk curved on the blonde's lips, his eyes darting over Hermione's shoulder.

Before the Granger girl could say or do anything, she couldn't even react, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Slowly lowering her wand, Hermione closed her eyes for a moment before she turned around. She groaned when she saw a sneering Filch. Joy, just the man that she didn't want to see.

It was obvious that the man had wanted to get Hermione in trouble since she had been in her first year. She was probably the only Hogwarts student who he had never caught doing anything wrong, the perfect little girl. Well, she supposed that she wasn't so perfect anymore..

"Ms. Granger…" He started, his voice a low purr, "What are you doing? Threatening a fellow classmate, I see." The brunette winced, flinching back slightly. She opened her mouth, prepared to say something and defend herself, but she was cut off by that same blonde son of a bit-

"Yes, sir. I was helping her pick up her things, she had fallen, when out of no where, she threatened to hex me!"

Hermione's eyes widened at the lie.

"You disgusting, foul, little-"

"That is enough, Ms. Granger." Her voice was cut off by a crackling Filch, Mrs. Noris appearing at his side. The cat hissed at her, and Hermione had to resist the urge to his back at it. "Detention, and ten points from Gryffindor!" Hermione frowned and looked at him, shaking her head ferociously.

"No, sir, you don't understand, he's lying!" She could practically feel Malfoy smirking at her, frantically trying to explain what had really happened.

" He called me a Mud-" Filch's eyes hardened and he cast his gaze back onto Hermione, immediately making the Gryffindor shut up, as he expected her too.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor." He responded to her babbling, causing Hermione to cry out indignantly. By now, a small crowd had gathered around the Snake and the Lion, curious as to who was making such a scene. Spluttering, Hermione stopped herself from saying anything else that she would regret. Turning on her heel, she stalked back to the Gryffindor common room.

She didn't remember saying the password, nor did she remember stepping inside.

All that she could recall were all of those eyes, directed on only her. Each orb was filled with a different emotion, but from what she could see, no one was going to hug her and tell her that she would be okay. No one was going to tell her that it was okay to make a mistake, that everyone made mistakes.

Hermione _wasn't _everyone! She did not make mistakes, especially not in school.

Unable to help herself, the female crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to look at anyone in the eyes.

"What?" She asked, mentally cursing at herself. Her voice had been an octave higher than she wanted it to be, and it shook almost like she was going to cry. Clenching her arms around her biceps, she waited for someone to answer her. She wanted to know why they were looking at her like she was some rare specimen in a zoo, something to be gawked at and then forgotten the next day.

"Thirty points." She finally heard someone say, and her eyes darted around the room as she attempted to find the owner. Her eyes finally landed on a male who she had seen around but rarely talked to, so she didn't think that she even knew his name.

"You lost thirty points within ten minutes." Almost as though he was appalled, the male shook his head.

"And she also got a detention!" A female voice called out from the back of the room, and a flash of betrayal flashed through her as she saw Ginny's familiar red hair flashing as she stepped forwards. The betrayal, however, soon turned to gratitude.

"She threatened Malfoy! And I bet she scared him too!" Hermione sent the youngest Weasley a small smile, which was eagerly returned. Murmurs of both praise and disappointment rang out through the common room. The comments that stood out most to her were:

"Wow, she must be either brave, or insane."

"She wasted our points on that bastard? Idiot."

"Guess she isn't so bright, eigh?"

"Stupid Mudblood, not fit to be in Gryffindor."

It stung to hear the people who she considered to be her friends saying such things about her. The one person who she noticed being unnaturally quiet, was Harry. He gave her a look that was almost proud, and she almost smiled. She knew that Harry would have done the same thing, if he had been in her position. Shaking her head slightly, she raked a hand through her hair and walked up to her dorm, her head held high. She would not let the Gryffindor's know that she was shattering like glass, the people who held her up slowly dropping her. Potions had been the final period that day, and she was not very hungry. She did not want to go to dinner, and she did not want to hear about the upcoming task.

The tasks! Of course, the brunette had completely forgotten about the Triwizard tournament. Oh, she felt like such a terrible friend, thinking about herself instead of the possibly deadly tasks that Harry had to overcome.

Hermione knew that Harry would not have entered himself into the tournament, he was not that kind of person. She knew that Harry did not relish in fame, no, he'd rather be off in the sidelines. Wherever the boy-who-lived went, however, fame seemed to follow.

The dragon had been more than enough, in her opinion, and she still could not figure out what that damn egg was. All that she knew about it, so far, was that he would be dealing with something that had a powerful voice. She could figure that much out, really.

She sighed to herself, the sound harsh and filled with unspoken pain. She felt as though she was failing Harry when she did not know what to do. She was always the brains behind the Golden Trio, and she had absolutely no idea of what to do. She could still hear the high pitched shriek that emanated from the egg, so far, a worthless clue.

Hermione's thoughts suddenly went to Draco, as she thought about the egg. In her opinion, his voice was far more annoying than the sound of the egg. His low, mocking, drawl, was a sound that she never wished to hear again. She would rather listen to the egg all day.

She despised him.

All throughout her life at Hogwarts, he had been there. He had been there to cut her with his words, sharper than shards of broken glass. He had been the one who had broken her in the first place. He had been the first one to hurt her deeply, and she wanted him to feel how he made her feel.

Never before had Hermione Granger wanted someone else to suffer. Then again, she had never met a person like Draco Lucius Malfoy. He made her want to scream and to tear out her hair, to curse and to slap someone. Sometimes it was Draco, sometimes a Slytherin, sometimes herself. She was not used to such strong feelings of anger and spite, and she had never hated someone before. Now, it seemed as though she had a mortal enemy.

Hermione could never see herself getting along with Malfoy. She could not have a conversation with him, other than if she was threatening him and he was harassing her with his words. Hell, she couldn't even look at him without wanting to slap that smug little smirk right off of his face. Hermione did not know if Draco realized how harshly his words hit her, but they did hit hard.

Words cut farther than shards of glass, lasted longer than a scar, and the worst part was, that no one even knew that they were still there, trapped inside of your mind.

No one could see that words jabbed into your heart and affected your mind.

No one realized that words were the deadliest weapon.

And yet, she smiled. She smiled passed the pain, told others that she was fine. After all, she was not worth worrying about. If she had told someone how she felt, she thought that she would become even more of a laughing stock at school. It would only encourage Malfoy to be crueller, him and all of his good-for-nothing friends. Without Crabble and Goyle, Hermione knew that Draco probably wouldn't be able to stand up for himself, at least not in front of Harry. Although he was sharp of tongue, and most likely strong due to Quidditch, she could assume that he was afraid. She did not know what he was afraid of, perhaps getting shown up or losing his reputation, but without his goons, he rarely did anything. Now, she knew that she could be wrong. For all she knew, Draco was frightened of nothing and used his followers only for moral support or to have someone laugh at his humorless jokes. After all, everyone needs someone to laugh with them. Everyone needs someone.

In the brunette female's head, she told herself that she had no one. No one would care if Hermione Granger disappeared off of the face of the planet.

Maybe Harry would be sad for a few days, but he would get over it. Maybe Ginny would cry, but soon enough she would be smiling. Her parents wouldn't care, as much as they told her that they adored her, she was the freak in the family. No one else had powers. She was abnormal, and at first she had thought that was a good thing. Now, Hermione wished that she could try out being normal, for once. She wanted to be accepted.

When she was younger, she had thought that everyone at Hogwarts would be amazing and that she would have many friends. She had promised herself that she would not get bullied as she did in Muggle school, and that if she did, she would not let it affect her.

She promised herself that she could be strong. She knew that she would be strong. Everyone would like her, she wouldn't stand out. Hermione thought that if she studied, perhaps she would fit in. If she was a smart, well learned kid, people would like her. People would respect her.

Oh, how wrong she was.


	3. Chapter Two

'"_Do you really think that anyone would care about you?" A scoff escaped the green eyed boys lips, shaped into a slightly disgusted snarl. Hermione gasped at his tone, her eyes swimming with tears. _

"_H-Harry…" She mumbled, not knowing what to say to her former friend. The boy rolled his own eyes at her, his glasses falling down his nose. _

"_Are you really that stupid? Really, Hermione, I pity you." Harry clucked his tongue, shaking his head at the female. "Really, I do. You're pathetic." The grin that curved on the Potter boys face did not resemble him, no. It resembled a certain blonde. _

_When Hermione blinked, that same grin was gracing a very different face. _

"_Stupid Mudblood." Spat Draco Malfoy, standing where Harry had been before. The boy crossed his arms over his chest, his silver eyes darting up and down Hermione's body._

"_How could anyone even tolerate being around you? Hell, even a bloody troll is more attractive than you are." For some reason, Hermione believed him. Her eyes filled with sparkling tears, and this time she could not hold them back. She would rather face the Cruciatus curse than those horrible, horrible, words. _

_Water slid down the females cheeks, making Draco laugh coldly. "Filthy mudblood." He spat. Usually, Hermione had a comeback, something that she could say that would at least make her feel a bit better, but she couldn't say anything. It was almost as though she was frozen in her spot, forced to take that verbal abuse. _

_All that she could hear was Draco's voice echoing again and again. Filthy mudblood. His voice, however, it wasn't alone._

"_Coward." She would recognize the redheads voice anywhere. The voice of her crush and best friend. The voice that had abandoned her. Ron._

"_Stupid." It was Harry again. She could hear the contempt in his voice, hatred seeping through his words. She had trusted him, loved him like a brother._

"_Worthless." Ginny's voice hit her like a bullet to the chest. She didn't know that Ginny, of all people, would quit on her. She had expected that she had a friend in at least her. Even with all of her many faults, Ginny had yet to say one bad thing about her. AT least, that's what Hermione thought._

"_Mundane fool." The teachers too? She had thought that they would at least accept her for being bright. A quiet whimper escaped her lips, forming a slight beg. A plead for the voices to stop, the words to stop rushing around her. She could barely see through her mist of tears, nor could she hear past the roaring in her ears. Finally, the voices quieted. She had wished that they would return and drown out what she heard next._

_Her parents._

"_Failure. Freak. You should never have been born." _

The first thing that Hermione saw when she woke up in the morning was the large and unrecognizable shape, making her eyes widen. For a moment, she panicked, before a fond smile graced her lips and a short laugh escaped her. .

"Crookshanks." She cooed, placing her hand on the felines head. Purring, the said cat moved closer to its master, Hermione gently stroking its head. At least she knew that someone would never stop loving her, and even if it was just a cat, it felt good to know that something needed her.

A short breath escaped Hermione's lips as she took in the morning. It was a Saturday, so they did not have lessons and the brunette had nothing to do. Her hair felt like a lions mane, and she knew that it would most likely take hours to tame. Lately, she had been very self conscious about her appearance. She knew that she was not gorgeous, she wasn't even pretty, but she wanted to try.

Halfheartedly brushing a hand through her honey brown locks, she looked around the quiet, dark, room. Checking the time, she tilted her head slightly to the side. Four o'clock in the morning. Knowing that she would not be able to go back to sleep, she slowly flung her legs out of the bed. A thin sheen of sweat filmed on her brow and she swept it away with the back of her hand, trying not to think about her nightmare. Recently, it had been a reoccuring problem, but with a sleepless draught potion, she had been able to overcome it. A frown once again graced her lips as she turned her head to see the still full goblet next to her bed. Of course she had forgotten to take it, after all, she hadn't really been thinking passed her swarming emotions when she had gotten into bed. She knew that she should have known better than to let her anger, spite, sadness, and pain take control. Well, there was nothing that she could do about that now.

Her feet hitting the floor delicately, Hermione pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She was wearing only a large nightshirt, but she didn't mind. It wasn't like anyone was going to be awake at this hour, at least no one that she cared to see. By now, she had become adept at the art of being silent, so when she left the dorm, she did not wake anyone. Her light footsteps made only the slightest of pads on the floor as she exited the Common Room, and slowly walked out into the winding halls of Hogwarts, lit only by the light that she cast from her wand.

She wasn't really paying attention to where she was walking. Really, Hermione didn't care where she ended up, as long as it was away. Away from the Gryffindor Tower, away from her thoughts, her dreams, and her own mind. Usually, that was all that Hermione had. Her mind. Her brilliant, bright, mind. That was what got her recognized, other than having a famous friend. That was what made her her.

Sometimes, however, Hermione just wanted to stop thinking. She knew that she wouldn't be able to leave her thoughts behind for long, they would come back to haunt her, but for now, she could try to clear her mind.

Warm breath left her lips in a huff as she pulled out of her thoughts, only to see just how far from the Gryffindor Tower she had gotten. The empty Astronomy Tower greeted her in an almost welcoming way, the slight sense of peace dropping over her shoulders as though it was another presence in the room. She closed her eyes blissfully as she felt the cool morning air nipping at her exposed skin, arching her neck up slightly. She found herself leaning against the railing of the tower, her arms wrapped on the rail. Despite herself, a small smile tugged at the left corner of her lips. This was the kind of freedom that she was looking for, little moments that she had to herself.

It really was quite beautiful to watch the sky being painted in different shades of pinks, yellows, and oranges. She could still see thin webs of darkness, little extracts of the dark night sky, trapped within the morning colors. It was almost magical, in a way. Far more magical than any spell that she could cast. Another satisfied sigh escaped Hermione's lips as she felt a cool, refreshing, breeze blow passed her. Though the cold left her shivering slightly, she really didn't mind. In fact, she embraced the cool as though it was a long awaited embrace.

After simply standing there for a while, judging by the progression of the sun, it had been about an hour, she turned around, prepared to get back to her dorm. She couldn't suppress a soft yelp of surprise when she walked directly into a strong chest, tumbling down to the floor. Blushing with embarrassment, Hermione started to stammer out an apology before she looked up to see a smirking blonde. With a groan, Hermione buried her head in her hands.

"Oh, you've got to be joking." She groaned under her breath, hearing a chuckle come from the male. Raising a brow, Draco looked down at Hermione. A mockingly thoughtful look rooted on his face, and he put his hand on his chin.

"Hm, imagine seeing you here, Mudblood." From the tone of his voice, Hermione knew that he had something up his sleeve. Picking herself up, she crossed her arms and looked up at him.

"Malfoy, get out of my way." She demanded, seeing as Draco was standing in the doorway of the tower. She could hear him laugh again, see the vibrations in his chest, and watch the humor glinting in his eyes.

"I'm rather comfortable where I am. Besides, why should I take orders from you, Granger?" He stalked closer to her in an almost dangerous way, making Hermione subconsciously step backwards. She did not like the animalistic look in his eyes, nor the cruel tone to his voice. Something about him was setting her on edge, something didn't seem right. Draco's eyes darted over Hermione's body, a lazy smirk on his face. "By the way, I quite like that attire on you." He told her, making the said female look down.

Once again, a blush rose to her cheeks and she internally cussed at herself for not changing. "O-oh, shut up!" She demanded, making the blonde haired Slytherin scoff and roll his eyes.

"What did I say, Granger? I don't take orders from filthy mudbloods like you. I don't take orders from anyone." He spat, moving forwards once again so that Hermione's back was pressed against the railing of the tower. "Hell, Granger, you should be taking orders from me." He whispered, close enough so that Hermione could feel his minty breath brush against her face. She shivered despite herself at his close proximity, only making Malfoy's smirk grow.

"You crave me, Granger. You want me close to you. I can see it in your eyes." He was close enough for her to be able to smell his minty, musky, scent. He was close enough to smell her vanilla fragrance. The older male breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent as though it was a drug.

The brunette didn't know what was going on. The two of them were only fourteen, and this was like a scene out of a book. Except, in books, the characters were older, and they were in love. Her relationship with Draco Malfoy was nothing close to love.

"You're insane." Hermione spat, though her voice shook slightly. She couldn't hide the fact that this made her nervous. She would never admit that she did find Draco to be attractive in a way, she was a girl she couldn't choose who she thought was good looking, but other than being physically attractive, she despised every part of him.

Draco laughed again, putting his hand on Hermione's cheek. "For a mudblood, you really are quite pretty." He whispered, his voice almost a purr. Before Hermione could say anything, his lips connected with hers. She couldn't react, she couldn't move or say a single word. A slight squeak of surprise escaped her lips, and she could feel the vibration of Draco's chuckle against her. Shock was written across her face as Draco pulled away from the kiss, that lazy smirk still on his face.

"Hm, wasn't that lovely?" He asked the female in front of him, clucking his tongue at her. A look of both pride and fulfillment covered his face. He had obviously wanted to do that for a long time.

"Shame that you won't remember any of it." Confusion and slight fear flashing across her face, the Gryffindor opened her mouth to speak, only to meet the receiving end of a wand, making her freeze, as she heard the distant muttering of a spell cast by Draco.

"Obliviate."


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: Working fast, but I've been pretty busy. And in response to the Guest Review, Hun, it's a fanfiction. I know it's not cannon. I know Ron wasn't mean to Hermione. It's an object of my imagination. You don't have to like it; that's your opinion. Thanks for reading :)

When Hermione woke up, she was greeted with a pounding headache and an aching back, as well as a lack of memory. She found herself in her bed, slowly sitting up. She groaned and rubbed her head slowly, trying to figure out what had happened the previous night. Turning her head to see an empty goblet, she smiled slightly and shook her head. She must have drunk the potion after she woke up from her nightmare. That made sense, at least enough sense for her to be satisfied. When she checked the time, a short gasp escaped her lips. It was already 11 o'clock, later than she could ever recall waking before.

Jumping out of bed, Hermione rushed to get into the shower. She never went a day without taking one, it was a type of luxury to her. Stripping of the nightshirt, Hermione turned the knob on the shower and stepped inside, immediately relaxing. Small drops of water pounded on to her small body, the warm liquid dripping down her like rain. She relished in those moments, feeling the warmth of each drop of water, the warm mist that coated the glass around her. Slowly, she poured a small dollop of shampoo into her hand, massaging it into her long brown hair. The smell of lilacs and vanilla wafted from the soap as she let the water rinse it from her curls, watching as drops of white foam fell to the floor. Once all of the shampoo was out of her hair, she conditioned it and washed her body. When the water finally started to turn cold, Hermione sighed and slowly shut it off. Wrapping a stark white towel around herself, she dried off and found some clothes to slip into.

It wasn't much. Since it was a weekend, she was wearing a simple pair of skinny jeans and a dark maroon shirt. that had long, sheer, sleeves. Under the shirt, she wore a plain grey tee, visible through slight slits in the side of the shirt. She brushed through her hair, then braided the still damp locks over her left shoulder. Pulling on a pair of black combat boots, the Granger girl walked out of the Common Room. She didn't really know where she was going, She just wanted to go somewhere. Knowing that the next task was later that day, her mind wandered to Harry. He was so brave to face all of those horrid tasks, by himself really. A small sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head to dispel her wandering thoughts.

"Hermione!" Jumping at the sudden voice, the said female lifted her eyes to see Cho Chang rushing towards her. Rolling her eyes at herself, the Granger girl let a soft breath escape her lips. She had been startled, though she would never admit it.

"Yes, what is it Cho?" Asked Hermione, honestly a bit surprised that the Ravenclaw was talking to her. She didn't really interact much with her, though the two were on speaking terms. Hermione supposed that it was because the two respected the others smarts, though other than their brains, the two had nothing in common. When she had been sorted, the hat had contemplated putting her in Ravenclaw. Honestly, she was glad that it did not. Though she was smart, she did not know if she would be the same person had she not been in Gryffindor.

"Dumbledore wants to see us." Snapped out of her thoughts, Hermione's lips tugged into a slight frown.

"What?" She asked, her voice rising slightly, "Why?" She couldn't suppress the slight panic that laced her voice. Was she in trouble? If she was, she did not know if she would be able to forgive herself. Already, she had been having a rather terrible week. First, she got detention and points taken from Gryffindor. Second, she could not remember a moment of last night, other than a flash of silver like grey. She didn't really know what that was or what it meant, but she remembered seeing something silver before the black once again enveloped her memory. Brushing a hand through her brunette curls, Hermione looked up at the slightly taller female.

Cho shook her head, her glossy black hair falling over her face. The muggleborn witch wished, for a moment, that she could look so casual, almost seductive, when brushing hair from her own face. The way that Cho did it made it seem like it was a practiced occurrence.

"I don't know. All I know is that we're supposed to go there. Come on, we're late already." There was more annoyance in Cho's voice than care, and Hermione knew that by sleeping in, she had probably messed up the female's schedule. In fact, Cho most likely did not want the responsibility of finding the Gryffindor. Once again, Hermione found herself snapped out of her wandering thoughts as she heard quick footsteps walking away. Her eyes lifting, she groaned as she noticed the Ravenclaw quickly pacing away from her. As she attempted to catch up, Hermione bit her lip softly. She watched each of the paintings, moving and talking as though they were as human as she was. The thought brought a slight smile to her face; for all she knew, the paintings could be alive, living in their own worlds. Perhaps, to them, they were the paintings, living a closed in life. Perhaps, they were simply art on the wall, nothing truly as it seemed.

Usually, Hermione's thoughts were not that philosophical, but something about those strange, beautiful paintings had triggered something in the young girls mind. The young female laughed at herself for a moment, earning several curious glances.

When the two finally arrived in the the Headmasters office, Hermione couldn't keep from squirming with apprehension. She and Cho were not the only other people in the room; a certain redhead's gaze was locked on her, and an unfamiliar blonde sat, seemingly uncomfortable, in the corner. Hermione could not stop her gaze from wandering around, eyes darting over each face in the room, though it hovered on Ron's. Catching his gaze, a coy look crossed the Weasley's face, making Hermione blush and look down.

"Hello, children." She looked up to see the familiar, smiling face of Dumbledore, melting her nerves away. She couldn't help but trust the old man dearly; despite the fact that there were Hogwartians who disobeyed rules and caused mayhem, the Headmaster chose to laugh with everyone else.

"Hello." Another voice drawled, the slight discomfort rising once again in Hermione Granger. Of course, Severus Snape was there too. She shouldn't have expected less, though she still would have preferred that the only professor in the room was Albus. Handing out cups of tea, a sneer trailed along the edges of the dark haired mans lips, pulling them upwards in an almost sinister way.

Tentatively taking her glass of the warm beverage in her hands, the Granger girl did not drink. A slightly sly, yet humorous, look sparkled in Dumbledore's eyes, covered by half moon glasses that Hermione noticed slid down his nose, reminding her of Harry.

Her eyes widened slightly; the next task would be starting soon, and she had promised to be there with him through the end. Noticing her dismay, Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head.

"You will be at the task, Ms. Granger, do not worry." Nodding, Hermione slowly forced herself to relax. She trusted that what Dumbledore said would be true. She knew that he would keep his word to her.

"Drink, and we shall talk." Not challenging him, the four sipped on their warm tea. Almost simultaneously, they sighed at the sensation of the warmth sliding down their throat, the bitterly sweet taste gliding over their taste buds. Some other, unrecognizable, taste lingered within the beverage, but Hermione brushed it off as some sort of flavoring. After the first drink, no one had to be told to continue. They continued to sip at their drinks as Dumbledore talked.

"Now, as you know, the clue for the next task was a golden egg." At the assembly of nods, the man continued talking. "Well, as some of you may have figured out," He sent a glance towards Hermione, who's face flushed with embarrassment at the fact that she did _not _know. "The sound is a sirens call."

The Gryffindor female could have screamed. How ever could she be so daft? It made perfect sense; above water, the call of a siren sounded horrific, though underwater it was beautiful.

"_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching ponder this;_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour, the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

Dumbledore recited what the words were, as Hermione finished her tea. She frowned slightly at the sudden dizziness that washed over her, noticing similar expressions on the other's faces.

"You all are the people who the Champions would sorely miss." Faces blurring together, Hermione felt her eyes drifting shut, sinking down in her chair. She was quickly falling under the potions spell, dragged into a world of a dreamless, sleep like state.

"Do not worry, it is perfectly safe." That's not what Hermione was worrying about. All that she could wonder was who would sorely miss her. She had not expected that, not at all. The fact that one of the Champions would brought a small smile to her face, and the girl finally succumbed to the darkness that invaded her vision.

Black…

Hermione gasped as she felt her head break out of the water, surprise etching itself across her delicate features. She took in hungry gulps of air, curling tightly against the man who had decided that she was too good to lose. Viktor Krum.

She had simply shared one night with him, dancing and laughing, smiles brightening their faces. Though she would admit that she had a good time, and he was handsome, she was not ready to have a committed relationship to a boy that she did not know well, especially one who would leave to go to his own school in a short period of time.

Feeling a warm robe wrapped around her frail shoulders, Hermione quietly thanked whoever laid it onto her. She shivered slightly, cold wind nipping at her still wet skin, cold. As she shivered, she looked over at Krum, who looked colder than she was. Biting her lip softly, she smiled at the thought that he care so deeply about her. She looked over at him and gently put her hand on top of his, her soft skin barely brushing his strong, calloused hands. She was sure that they were rough from gripping onto his wand, though it was somewhat comforting to feel his hands. It reassured her that he was real; she wasn't dreaming, he really cared. Krum looked over at the smaller female, a smile budding on his lips.

As she was about to say something to the older male, she noticed Harry pushing himself out of the surface of the water, choking for air. Two people were held in his arms, the blonde from before and Ron.

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, a wordless thank you, to Viktor's cheek, making the older boy smile. Her gaze, however, was diverted as she heard a splash in the water. Her eyes widened when she saw Harry emerge, gasping for the crisp, cold air.

In his arms were two people. The blonde from Dumbledore's office, and Ron. She smiled slightly, shaking her head. She knew that Harry would always pick Ron over her, after all, she as a late addition to the trio. She was just glad to be his friend.

A group of people pulled Harry and the two out of the water, Fleur running to the blonde. Once she saw the resemblance, the Granger girl smiled slightly. Sisters. She was proud of Harry; she knew that he would always choose the right path and do a good deed, no matter what happened. Seeing both Harry and Ron's faces flare up when Fleur kissed them on the cheek, a soft giggle escaped Hermione's lips and she shook her head slightly. It was amusing to see how the two reacted to feminine affection; it almost made her want to tease them herself. Unfortunately, she loved Harry like a brother, so that would be awkward, and Ron… well, she didn't know what to say about the red head.

Hearing quite murmuring, her gaze once again switched. She watched Cedric pull Cho close to him, pressing his lips into her hair and murmuring soft words to the female, who clung to him. Hermione wondered if she would ever find a romance like that; the two looked like they could go and ride off into a sunset to live a happily-ever-after.

Watching Cedric hold Cho to him, Hermione felt a strong arm placed around her slender shoulders. A smile graced her face as she looked over at Viktor, light pink rising to her cheeks, which caused him to chuckle. As the two of them sat together, she felt a slight glare on the two of them, hidden loathing, yet also passion, hidden in someone's sharp gaze. The way that they were being looked at set her nerves on end, unease setting over her. Noticing that Krum didn't notice, she tried to brush it off as a feeling of paranoia, though she could still feel those eyes, boring into her.

It almost felt familiar.

She did not know who it was that was looking at them, her eyes darting around, but by the time she had looked at everyone that she could see, they must have looked away. Had she looked up merely a moment sooner, she would have caught the gaze of a pair of grey eyes.

For a moment, she almost contemplated on the fact that someone could have been jealous? If they were, it must have been a girl, jealous of her. It almost made her scoff; some girls would go to any extent to get the boy that they wanted, using far different methods than men.

She never imagined that it was Viktor Krum that was envied.

And she never saw the back of a very blonde head stalking out of the area, muttering threats towards the boy.

She never heard him growl.

"Mine."


End file.
